This is my story for the
January-February 2026 Short story contest
The theme was: 'Hope and/or Despair'
My entry:
The Dragon Isles archives - Condensed Chaos arrived
2382 IC, Sea of Dread, near the Dragon Isles
In the middle of stretched out dark blue-green-ish waters of the Sea of Dread reside a couple of green overgrown isles. Like specks of green in a bucket of blue paint. The longer Gorzharr Flintcleaver stared at the growing shoreline and dense vegetation ahead of him the more anger flamed inside of him.
Even the air held paint-like aromas, a heavy smell of iron and lead filled his nostrils. Gorzharr was standing upon the deck of a giant floating engine of war, a ship built to conquer and bring home the spoils of war. Around him scurried several Goblin labourers and a few Orcs, getting the ship ready to land soon. Above him in the sky a rain of sparks caught by the wind were distributed all over the deck and around the ship. Remnants of a powerful magical shield that encapsulated the isles in front of them. The Sorcerer, Hazhkatur Ashmouth, countered it with his destructive magic spells and had been able to force an entry for the fleet to pass through.
+++++++
2382 IC, The Dragon Isles, overseeing the Sea of Dread
In the middle of the island covering deep green jungle a pair of bright yellow eyes in a blue scaled face looked silently upon the specks of grey in the water in front of him. They grew bigger with the minute.
On top of the specks a plume of smoke is signaling the others behind it to follow. A rain of sparks fall on top and around them, as the magical barrier is broken. The dome that had protected his home for years and years.
+++++++
Gorzharr was told the stories of the Dragon Isles and how the Lizardmen had come from the Southlands. How they had taken over the Isles and created a magical barrier to keep all other species out.
In his opinion, which is the popular opinion among the Dawi, the Isles belong to the Chaos Dwarfs, gifted to them by the Father of Darkness. A mighty gift, full of resources. The mountains, the rich and old, very old ground would hold treasures unmatched.
+++++++
Xenal-Kekuil had been told the stories of the Condensed Chaos from the Dark lands. Lord Krazpet’optl, may the Old Ones watch over his soul, warned them time and time again for the ravaging drive and unending hunger for power that fueled these creatures. The magical barrier was put up to keep them out, to preserve nature and keep the Isles safe. It was the Old Ones’ will that the Lizardmen inhabited these isles.
+++++++
The fleet steered towards the only visible landing spot on the first island in front of them. “BRROUMGH!!!” A heavy rumble and loud growl filled the air as the Dreadquake Mortar on deck fired a shell at the jungle’s edge just next to the landing. Gorzharr’s ears rang with a high pitching sound. His hearing came back just as the ship landed at the island. More on instinct than by order the Chaos Dwarf warriors formed a formation and made ready to embark. Heavy burning vegetation, left of the landing, gave away the arrival of the Dawi and their intent.
Units of Hobgoblins were the first to enter the jungles, scout the way ahead and eliminate possible small dangers. Every few minutes one of the Hobgoblins returned to report to the Dwazi Sorcerer in charge of this expedition.
When no report was sent back the army knew which direction to expect danger and act accordingly, without remorse over the lost Hobgoblins.
While the reports kept coming the army took responsibility in unloading the digging equipment and machines. The work progressed like a well-oiled machine, hardened over time and precision honed by experience.
The Hobgoblins kept appearing from the tree line regularly. The interval of their appearances became longer and longer, meaning they made progress without much struggles.
+++++++
Overviewing the bay Xenal-Kekuil noticed multiple flashes of bright light on top the grey specks below. Objects hurled through the sky towards the shore accompanied by a visible shockwave of sound.
“BRROUMGH!!!” sounded loud through the dense jungle and hit the Lizard’s ears at the same time as the projectiles hit the coastal vegetation, engulfing it in flames.
The day he dreaded for ages had arrived. Xenal-Kekuil retreated from his position, back through the overgrown city. Duty called.
+++++++
Down at the coast the army organized itself straight towards the heart of the isle. No Hobgoblin had appeared for a while from that direction. Magma canon in front, the army started tracking the route the Hobgoblin scouts had taken. Searing heat went before them, burning a path through the jungle for the army to follow. Wildlife fled left and right.
+++++++
Dull footsteps sounded between the overgrown ziggurats, empty barracks and dried out spawning pools. Xenal-Kekuil ran to the western gates of the once thriving city. The spawning pools quieted down after the death of Lord Krazpet’optl, the city lost government and primal instincts took over all inhabitants. All Lizardmen were drawn to the jungle itself abandoning houses and temples. He himself would roam in the city’s confines hoping and praying to the Old Ones for a change.
He ran up the stairs at the left of the gate, up in the gatehouse to the top floor. Along the outside of the gatehouse a two feet wide enclosed channel was carved through the decorated stones. At the top of the channel the diameter narrowed to a two inch opening.
Just before he put his lips at the opening a thought slipped in his mind:
“
Change has come.”
Xenal-Kekuil closed his eyes, breathed in and blew through the opening.
… to be continued
Grrr, !mrahil
>>Back to Index<<